No Choice
by KrasnyCassandra
Summary: To keep them safe means to endure more pain than he could have imagined.


Felicity Smoak tried very hard not to cry as she watched her son gallop across the playground. He was shorter than many of his classmates, but his blond head and boisterous personality stood out, even in the crowd of raucous kindergartners. She leaned her head sideways to acknowledge the soft hand upon her shoulder. Her mother was there, offering silent support. Before Felicity had a moment to regret who was not present, her little boy was bouncing in front of her.

"Mamma! Mamma! We did _math_ today and it was super easy! I knew all the answers of course and there was a snack time and then we had to have quiet time! Some kids napped but I read a book and did you know some kids can't read yet and I made a new friend his name is Ben! Did you miss me?"

"Yes darling I missed you horribly." Felicity wrapped him in her arms and swung him into the air. "It was so QUIET in the house that Grandmamma even took a _nap_!"

Big blue eyes turned to the older woman, enquiring about the veracity of his mother's words. But when he saw his grandmother's solemn nod, the little boy laughed loudly. "You're teasing me Mamma! Grownups don't take _naps_!"

"Not with you around, son. Are you ready to go home and tell Grandpappa all about your first day of school?"

"Ice cream first! You promised!" His eyes, so very like his father's blinked up at her. The little charmer knew he could get most anything he wanted with one soulful glance. He also knew that sometimes his looks made his Mamma cry. He didn't know why.

"Ok, ice cream first, but you have to do all of your homework before playtime."

"Ha! Easy peasy! Let's go!"

The trio walked across the parking lot. Felicity lived with her parents in a rambling five bedroom farm house. She could have purchased her own home with the money she made from her information-security consultation business, but her parents had been there when she'd needed them so desperately—almost six years ago now—and she couldn't imagine raising her child without their steady guidance.

A black sedan with tinted windows sat across the street from the school. Felicity saw it and sucked in a breath. Blood roared in her ears. She half turned back toward the school, ready to scoop her boy up and whisk him away from any threat. Then her remarkable brain started working again.

She'd told _him_ about the first day of school. The message had been passed through cut-outs and intermediaries and couched in the blandest of terms. It was the way they'd passed messages for the past five and a half years. Never pictures, never locations or identifying details, nothing that could compromise their safety.

Well, except for the first message. That one had included one name. She had to tell him what she'd named their son.

"Mamma?"

Now her son's face was a grave mask of concern. The similarities between his cheeks, still chubby with vestiges of babyhood, and his father's stubbled jaw were all the more apparent when he was worried.

"It's ok, Tommy. Watch for cars now, ok?" Felicity saw her mother's glance and briefly shook her head to ward off any questions.

She watched her mirrors and the surrounding traffic all the way to the ice cream parlor and then all the way home. She knew _he_ wouldn't risk coming to the house, but she worried that his good intentions would outweigh his common sense. It hadn't happened in nearly six years, but even _he_ made mistakes.

* * *

Oliver sat back against the seat cushions. He scrubbed his hand over his face, scowling at the wetness he found there. "You can go now, John." Diggle was mercifully quiet during the long drive back to Starling City. It was a mercy because Oliver didn't need another lecture on the stupidity of his life choices or the dangerous decision he'd made that morning.

It was after midnight when they finally reached the office. Oliver grabbed the vodka and poured for the both of them. He downed three shots before Diggle finished his first.

"Stop it, ok?" He sank into his desk chair.

"I said nothing."

"Not with words. The looks are enough." Oliver looked out the window, trying to blink away another onslaught of tears. "I shouldn't have gone."

"Nope."

"It's harder now. How can it be harder after seeing him?"

"You've seen pictures."

He slashed his hand through the air in a frustrated gesture. "Not the same thing and you know it."

"Did you think it was ever going to be easy?"

"No!" He downed another shot and tried to close his eyes against the pain. It didn't help, because his mind instantly conjured the image of a beautiful blonde woman swinging a little boy—_their little boy_—through the air. "She saw us."

"Of course she did, we taught her well."

"Probably scared her. She'll be up half the night pacing."

John Diggle reached out and took the bottle from Oliver's desk. He deliberately replaced the cap and placed it back in the credenza. "No, Oliver, I think she'll be more alert for the next few weeks but otherwise she'll do what she's been doing for the past six years." He speared his boss, and friend, with a glare. Diggle believed in tough love, especially where Oliver Queen's family was concerned. "She'll cry herself to sleep."

Too emotional for words, Oliver growled. He slammed his hands on the desk before pushing his chair back. Stalking over to the window, he stared out at the rainy night.

"It has to be this way."

"You had-you _have —_a choice Oliver."

"No, I don't." His anger cooled with the rush of sadness that always came whenever they discussed this topic. "As long as I have enemies in this town, they'll never be safe. If they knew about her, they'd hurt her. If they knew about…" He took a deep breath before whispering, "About Tommy, they'd hurt him. I have to keep them safe."

He leaned his head against the cold glass and closed his eyes. This time he longed for the image of his child.

"There was no choice to make."

* * *

**A/N I know, darker than my usual fare, but this one has been rattling around in my head for awhile now. When I heard Oliver say "There was no choice to make" I knew that it was the perfect tag to this story. If we're being honest, it's hard to imagine a happily ever after for Oliver and ANY woman, much as we may long for it.**

**Anyway, this is out of my system, now, so I can get back to finishing Angry Ponytail and writing happier stories.**


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